


We Keep This Love in an Iconograph

by Dats_der_bunny



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: As is Vetinari, F/M, Fluff, I don't know what else to tell you really, I'm just getting sentimental in my old age, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28119282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dats_der_bunny/pseuds/Dats_der_bunny
Summary: A quiet evening for the Vimes family at Scoone Avenue. ThewholeVimes family.
Relationships: Havelock Vetinari/Samuel Vimes, Sybil Ramkin/Havelock Vetinari/Samuel Vimes
Comments: 18
Kudos: 62





	We Keep This Love in an Iconograph

**Author's Note:**

> Quite a few quotes inspired and shaped this piece, but this one is my favourite:
> 
>  _And there we were, in a kind of harmony; and the evening was so beautiful, that it made a pain in my heart, as when you cannot tell whether you are happy or sad; and I thought that if I could have a wish, it would be that nothing would ever change, and we would stay that way forever._  
>  \- Alias Grace, Margaret Atwood
> 
> The title came from Photograph by Ed Sheeran.

Vetinari knew that he shouldn’t fall asleep. For one thing, he needed to keep track of time; he would be missed at the Palace if he didn’t leave soon. He also needed to watch Young Sam; he was at the kind of age where he could find hundreds of ways to hurt himself if they weren’t careful.

But, on the other hand, he had one Sam Vimes leaning against his shoulder, snoring gently; and another in his arms, head lolling against his chest. He gently wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, trying not to wake either of them. The generous fire in the grate was crackling and he was vaguely aware of the sound of Sybil coming back from attending to the swamp dragons.

He was also aware of his own breathing starting to deepen and his eyelids becoming heavy. He leaned into Vimes a little and rested his head against Vimes’s own. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift into a state of not-quite-sleep, willing himself to stay awake just enough to enjoy this precious time.

—

After a while, he heard a click coming from the direction of the doorway. His eyes snapped open, but he promptly relaxed at the sight of Sybil beaming behind an iconograph box. He gave her a fond little smile, and she crossed the room to sit in an armchair next to him. She wordlessly took the finished picture from the box and inspected it, and her grin mellowed into an expression that Vetinari wished he could capture in an iconograph of his own.

She offered the picture to him, and he took it with his free hand. The lighting was warm and soft, and the image exuded a feeling of _home_. He traced his fingers around the edges of the paper.

He wondered, although he would never say as much to Sybil, if people would ever find these little things one day. When we are long-dead, he thought, what will remain? Will people find this iconograph and wonder who we were? Will they ever find out? Maybe the discovery of a tarnished engraved silver cigar case will make an archaeologist’s day, hundreds of years from now. Or perhaps the silver Death’s head knob of my cane will sit behind glass someday, will they marvel at how intricate it is? Or how crude instead?

He became aware of the slightly sad look that had occupied his face of its own accord; and looked up to find that Sybil was watching him. He brightened up as much as he could and reached out to offer the picture back to her. She stood up again, but instead of taking the iconograph she scooped up Young Sam instead, balancing the little boy on her hip.

Vimes stirred, and both Sybil and Vetinari froze; it had taken long enough to convince the stubborn old sod to even sit down in the first place. Vetinari held his breath and willed him not to wake, but instead Vimes just shifted in his sleep and threw an arm around Vetinari’s waist. Sybil stifled a laugh and Vetinari covered his own smile with the back of his hand. With a deep sigh, he relaxed again and laid his own arm over Vimes’s.

The Palace can wait a while longer, Vetinari thought, it will have to. Some moments are irreplaceable. Sybil settled back into the armchair with Young Sam, and he held out the iconograph to her once more. She looked at it for a while and shook her head. He took another long look at the image, at how his little family had looked at that moment in just two dimensions, with time taken out of the picture.

He slipped the iconograph into his breast pocket and looked down at Vimes. He’ll be just a little embarrassed when he wakes up, Vetinari knew, and won’t that be something to look forward to? For now, though, he felt timeless.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so grateful for all the lovely comments and feedback on this fic! This one was special to me so it really means a lot. And you've all inspired me to tag another chapter on this one, it'll be angstier than the first but it'll be worth it, trust me! Thank you!!!


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